The Giving Tree That Keeps Giving
As a child I never really understood the message behind the story of The Giving Tree. I found the story odd and its illustrations boring—to be honest I still do. As a child I couldn’t understand the complexities of such a story. Why was the tree always giving to this seemingly ungrateful child? Apparently, the book has since been banned in several library’s due to its confusing and controversial message of love and sacrifice. That being said, I still have my old copy of this book on my younger son’s bookshelf and it wasn’t until now when I re-read the story to him, that I actually think I understand the intent behind it.
As a child I never fully understood the extent of my mom’s love for me. I felt her love for me daily. She loved me like no one else in my life. She always made time for me. She always made me feel seen and heard. She always made me feel safe and loved and so special. She was my biggest supporter--the one with the most patience, the most compassion and the most love to give. Now that I am a mom, I get it. I now understand that kind of love--a mother’s love for her children. There’s nothing else quite like it.
When my boys curl up on the bed beside me each morning and announce, “time to wake up mommy”, I feel that love.
When they run into my arms and nuzzle their little faces into my stomach and wrap their arms around my waist and squeeze me tight, I feel that love.
When my almost nine-year-old asks me to sing “Great Big Stars” to him one more time before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep, I feel that love.
When my almost seven-year old’s eyes light up when he sees me dressed up for a dinner with daddy and says, “stop it mommy, you’re too beautiful”, I feel that love.
When my older son tells me he never wants to move away from home. When my younger son asks if he can marry me someday. When they reach for my hand and gently squeeze it three times when we are walking side by side. When they ask me if I can stop what I’m doing and be with them. When they crack up at my jokes. When we play last to leave their bedroom. When my older son makes me rainbow loom jewelry for no reason. When my younger son brushes my hair for fun. When they jump into the pool and beg for me to jump in too. When they request a bike ride with just me. When they open up to me about their days and what’s on their minds. When they play basketball and after making a shot, look back to make sure I saw it. When we spy grandma Linda butterflies together. When they have had a rough day and melt into my arms. When I have had a rough day and melt into their arms. When I clap or give them a high five or give them a thumbs up-- the smile they give me back. When I tuck them into bed at night and they lean in with an ugga mugga and butterfly kisses (just like my mom and I used to give each other). When they tell me they love me way past infinity days. I feel that love.
The love is different but the same. The love I hold for my mom and that she holds for me, and now the love that I hold for my sons and that they hold for me---it’s a forever love. It has no end. It continues well past death—and way past infinity days.
Singing happy birthday to Grandma Linda after dinner tonight. The boys both blew out the candle and we spoke about her.
Today is my mom’s seventy first birthday in heaven. This is the 29th birthday I’ve celebrated with her “in spirit”. This day is met with a sadness that stings a bit more year after year, because the older I get (I celebrated my 39th just last week) and the older my boys get and the more life I live and get to enjoy—the more sadness I feel for her life being cut so short. There are countless missed moments and missed memories we could have/should have had together. I was cheated of that time with her. She was cheated of that time with me and my sister. I could cry all day long with thoughts of what could have been—instead, in @getting.to.get.to fashion, I choose to focus on the the positive, on what I can control and on the now. The same way she focused on living in the now as my mom— even when she knew her days on this earth were running short. She didn’t dwell on the negative and she never gave up hope (which she easily could have), instead she fought to live and enjoy each day and she made every day count. She had grace and she had gratitude. To know her was to love her. Many will say that her cup wasn’t half full—that it was overflowing and it’s true. She was genuine and kind and humble and generous with her love.
I didn’t realize it then but I realize it now--for me, she was/is The Giving Tree. She gave us (my sister and me) her all—her every leaf, every fruit and every branch. She gave it all happily because of her immense love for us. She gave so much that in the end all that was left was a stump—in the end there was nothing left to do, or to give, or to say…. just “I love you and I will always love you”. Those were her words to me when we said goodbye and they still ring true. While a part of me will always wish that I could have been that child from the book who got to enjoy her (The Giving Tree) through all the ages and stages of his life, well into his elderly years--I find myself grateful that I am the girl who lost her mom too soon but enjoyed her to the fullest while she was here. And unlike the boy who would just take and take never once gave back or even uttered the words “thank you”—I am the girl who will spend every day of the rest of her life showing my gratitude to my mom.
I am forever changed and forever proud to be hers. Even if I only got-to have her physically here with me for ten years, I now know the secret…. I get to love my mom forever. I get to be a mom who learned from the very best. I get to be here in a healthy mind and body and that’s a privilege I don’t take lightly. I get to be in the moment with my children and I don’t take a single day with them for granted.
Mom, thank you for giving me life. Not just for giving birth to me, not just for loving me with that love that I have come to know so well as a mom myself, but thank you for giving me a deeper appreciation for life. I am grateful for everything you’ve given me and taught me, both during your life and every day after. I am grateful to be your daughter. Having you as my mom is the greatest gift, you’re the Giving Tree that keeps giving—and my time on this earth is my gift back to you mom—all the leaves, all the fruits, all the branches…they are all for you. Happy Birthday.